After a restless night, Katherine rose before sunup. She turned up the gaslight and nestled into a softly cushioned chair by her fireplace. Opening her dusty Bible, she began to read John. The words were familiar. She’d read them often enough during her younger years, but from the time she’d fallen blindly in love with Charles, she’d gradually given up studying the Word and praying. When she again sought out the Lord’s quiet voice in her heart, she didn’t like what He had to say. He pricked her conscience. Katherine shouldn’t have turned against her parents’ wishes and especially their wise advice, but she loved Charles—or who she thought he was—and she wouldn’t abide any criticism of him.
She’d take care not to drift away from the Lord again. He provided strength when her own failed. And she felt hers slipping away little by little. She rubbed her face and turned to the window, staring over the straight rows of treetops. Perhaps news of the bank loan would come today and bring relief. She pushed down a wave of rising panic and headed out to the orange groves.
After a short walk in the cool of early morning, Katherine went to her office, located in a whitewashed outbuilding a short distance from Buena Vista. She worked until luncheon. When she returned to the office, she found the mail had been delivered and piled on her desk. Swallowing hard, Katherine glanced through the pile of letters, her hand trembling. Quickly she scanned the return addresses on each envelope. When she found the letter on the bottom of the stack, she stared at it for several long moments, afraid to tear it open. Savoring the hope that it would announce good news, she let several seconds tick by before she slit the crease of the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
Dear Mrs. Osborne:
We’re sorry to inform you that your request for a loan has been denied.
Her knees wobbled. She sank into her desk chair and read the rest of the letter, then the first line again, wishing that different words would somehow appear on the page. But, of course, they stayed exactly as the banker had written them. Denied. Why was she so shocked?
As soon as she’d talked to the bank officer, she’d known he had no intention of loaning money to a woman with no business credentials and minimal experience. She’d shown him the evidence that over the last year their production had improved. Modestly. But he’d declared Osborne Citrus Groves a shaky enterprise, destined for failure.
What had ever given her such unfounded optimism? Her wishful thinking had erased all her common sense and good judgment. She’d rushed headlong into a disastrous marriage and regretted it. Maybe her stab at operating the citrus groves was no more than another ill-advised attempt doomed for failure.
Katherine rested her head in her hands and let disappointment surge through her. What could she do now except sell her property to Stuart, pack her bags, and leave? She had no other alternative.
Unless . . .
Light on her feet, she raced to Buena Vista and shot through the empty rooms of the house in search of her father. He was so good to her she hated to ask him for a favor, but who else could she approach? Her heart thumped, not from running in a tightly laced corset, but from anxiety that mounted with every step. What if he refused her?
She finally spotted him on the back terrace, reading a newspaper and sipping lemonade with Andrew. They both looked up and grinned. “Can you join us for a glass of tea or lemonade?” Papa asked, gesturing toward the vacant chair next to him.
As a concession to the steamy July weather, he’d rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and forsaken his tie.
“Papa, I have something important to ask you. Please consider it carefully before you answer.” She knew his first reaction would be to reject her request out of deference to her mother. He’d list a dozen reasons why he couldn’t possibly provide her with the funds she needed.
Andrew stood. “Excuse me. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“No,” Katherine said. “Please stay. This a business matter, so you should hear what I have to say.”
Mr. Wainwright nodded. “I agree. Go ahead, Katherine.” But as his smile faded and he became solemn, her confidence wilted. He seemed to anticipate what she was going to ask.
She disliked placing her father in such an awkward position, but with no other choice, she had to control her anxiety and forge ahead. Katherine looked Papa directly in the eye so he’d understand the seriousness of the situation. “I would appreciate a business loan. As you can see, I need to plant trees and make repairs and improvements right away. But the biggest challenge directly ahead of me is that I need to hire extra help to bring in the fall harvest, and I’m afraid I’m short of cash. Five thousand dollars would certainly eliminate many of our problems. I realize that’s a great amount of money, but I can assure you I’ll put it to good use.” Somehow she kept panic out of her voice. She thought she sounded reasonable, not at all desperate. But he knew her so well he wouldn’t be fooled by her calm facade.
Papa shook his head, a mournful frown molding his expression. “Katherine, why do you want to keep this business going when you have the luxury of never working another day in your life? Oh,” he said, lifting his hands to shush her retort, “I understand the satisfaction of working hard and bringing a crop to market. You’ve done a wonderful job, and I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished, and against all odds too. But I know that this current challenge, Katherine, is only one of numerous difficulties you’ve encountered. I’ve also learned you’ve entertained offers beyond Stuart’s to purchase the groves, but you turned them all down.”
She wasn’t surprised he knew so much about the state of her finances. News traveled fast around the financial world. She tried to gather her thoughts, wanting to sound reasonable, not desperate. “I know I can improve our production, even this year, if I can find the funds to make improvements. I’d reimburse you as soon as possible.” Her father wouldn’t miss the money, but of course that wasn’t the point. She’d never take advantage of him.
“Have you gone to your bank?” he asked.
Katherine blew out a sigh. “Yes, and they rejected me. I received their letter in this morning’s post. But I—”
He put up a hand to stop her. “You can’t win, sweetheart. No one will give you an opportunity to prove yourself because—all right, because you’re a woman. That’s how the world works, and I’m afraid you can’t change the way things are.”
What argument could she possibly make to convince her father otherwise?
He squirmed, one of the few times she’d ever seen him uncomfortable. “Your mother and I want you to return home. Claim what’s rightfully yours. Find your way to happiness and contentment again. We miss you, and we worry about you all alone and so very far away. Please come home with me.” He was pleading with her, and her resolve weakened. How could she harden her heart to Papa?
But frustration swelled in her chest once again. “You’re pulling on my heartstrings, Papa. It’s not fair, not when you know how much I want to stay.” The early afternoon sunshine beat down and formed rivulets of perspiration down her neck and forehead. She swiped at her brow with the back of her hand.
He leaned across the small round table and put his hand over hers. “I do understand why you want to stay. Yet the problems and frustrations are enormous for anyone, but especially for an inexperienced woman. Please believe me when I say the odds are stacked against you. It’s unlikely you’ll ever make a success of Osborne Citrus Groves.”
“But I know I can. All I need is more time and capital.”
“Katherine, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a man say that . . .”
She lowered her gaze and bit her lip. Only an easily defeated businesswoman would complain or weep over a setback. Yet she’d exhausted all her ideas.
Would the Lord give her a plan she’d never considered? What if He expected her to go home? Maybe He was leading her in a different direction than she wanted to go. Lord, please don’t lead me away from here.
Her father cocked his head. “Your beloved Great Aun
t Letty moved in with us awhile back. She’s a dear old lady, but sometimes she can be a handful, even for a woman as formidable as your mother. Mama could use some help caring for her. And you said that you might get away for a bit this summer . . . Why not try? Come home, for just a time? Return come fall, if you must.”
Katherine smiled at the thought of her favorite aunt and her adventurous stories.
Aunt Letty made the prospect of a visit to Camp Birchwood all the more enticing, but there were countless details that needed her undivided attention, even in the relative calm of summer.
Katherine shook her head. “I’m sorry, Papa, but I’m afraid I can’t help. Especially with Mr. Herne gone . . . Perhaps when the orange groves are thriving, I’ll make a visit home. I do miss summers in the Adirondacks.” Sometimes she longed for her family so much she wanted to board the next train for New York. But she never let the nagging pain of homesickness get the better of her. “I’m afraid I can’t leave now. Perhaps next year I can visit for a few weeks.”
Papa met her gaze with his usual intensity. “Perhaps you need a visit home to remember all you left behind, and all that still awaits you.” He studied her for a long moment. “What if we came to an agreement?”
Katherine frowned. “What kind of an agreement?”
“I’ll lend you the money to make modest improvements and bring in the fall harvest—which, if you’re right, should increase the value of the property—in exchange for one month of your time at home following whatever social agenda your mother has planned.”
Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Katherine’s eyes flicked in his direction, then back to her father.
“But mind, you must not tell her about this arrangement, Katherine. She’d be madder than a wet hen if she discovered I gave you a loan.”
“That’s very generous of you, Papa,” Katherine said, pausing. His steady gaze indicated he expected an answer, now. But she wouldn’t jump at the arrangement until she thought through all its ramifications. A shrewd businessman, Papa never made deals that didn’t serve his own ends. Or in this case, Mama’s.
“I’d certainly appreciate a loan and a short vacation at Birchwood. But please, Papa, let me mull this over before I accept. All right?”
“Why do you hesitate, my dear? I’m offering you exactly what you want.” His face showed frustration mingled with hope.
She nodded. “Yes, I know. But I don’t want to make an impulsive decision.” As I normally do, hung suspended in the air. She glanced at Andrew, hoping to gauge his response, but he kept his expression carefully neutral.
Papa flashed her a wry smile. “Of course.” He and Mama had always accused her of acting first and thinking later. Well, for once she’d take her time and hopefully not make a mistake she’d later regret.
“May I join you for your walk?” Andrew asked as Katherine headed across the terrace after dinner.
The temperature had dropped a few degrees and a warm breeze blew across the rolling hills. But the heat still hung heavy over the land like a soggy wool blanket. He hoped Mr. Wainwright would decide to head north before they both melted like scoops of vanilla ice cream. The humidity sapped his boss’s strength and shortened his normally even temper. Andrew couldn’t imagine how Katherine kept her energy level so high and her disposition so sweet. Maybe after all these years she’d adjusted.
Yet how could she resist her father’s invitation to vacation at Camp Birchwood where thick stands of trees shaded the land and the lake glistened with refreshing waters? The green, rolling hills of central Florida had a beauty of their own, but the humidity nearly suffocated him. And the bugs were even worse. If he lived here, he’d have to escape every summer.
“Have you given any more thought to coming home with your father and me?” Andrew asked in a mild voice. He didn’t want to raise her ire, but he’d prayed she’d see reason and decide to return.
Katherine sighed. “That’s all I can think about. I need Papa’s loan to keep the business running, but I feel it’s my responsibility to stay here to see that everything goes smoothly.”
He admired her dedication and tenacity. No one, not even her beloved father, would easily manipulate her. Andrew swallowed hard as they strolled through the garden of colorful crepe myrtle trees, bougainvillea, and hibiscus. Her silky hair shone in the last golden rays of daylight, and her sculptured profile became even prettier in the descending shadows. He hadn’t realized until now how very much he wanted her to return to New York to spend the rest of the summer at Camp Birchwood with her family. And with him.
“Katherine, come home for a month. A little rest and relaxation will give you a new lease on life. The mountain air will do you so much good.” He was pressing harder than he meant to, but she’d be better able to decide about her future after a few weeks away from the stress of work. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push you. It’s really between you and your father.”
She smiled ruefully. “Yes, but you heard him. A whole month of doing exactly as my mother asks?” She shook her head. “That’s bound to only dissolve into more of our legendary arguments, even if I’m bound and determined to see through my part of the bargain.”
His mouth slanted in a grin. “I remember those.”
“I’m sure you do. Mama was mortified I didn’t keep our disagreements private. But you and your aunt and uncle were always practically family.”
“Your mother might insist you attend a few dances and dinner parties, but is that really so terrible? Think of all the benefits a summer at Birchwood would bring. There’s swimming and boating, and tennis and—”
Katherine lifted her palm. “You’re right, of course. But I’m afraid I’d feel idle and restless.”
“I understand. I thrive on work too.”
“Still, I’m seriously considering Papa’s offer.”
Andrew nodded as they dropped onto a stone bench. “Did you help with the business while Charles was alive?”
“No, not really. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with the company. And actually, he wasn’t very interested either. He was gone a lot. Most of the time, in fact.”
“On business?”
She shrugged. “Charles never said where he was going or what he was doing. I assume he went off to find more markets for our fruit, but he never explained. After the first few years we practically led separate lives.”
“I’m sorry.” His heart clutched. Ever since the surprising elopement, he’d worried Charles would eventually desert Katherine, at least emotionally. Charles never stuck with anything for long in college either. Always discontent, he quickly tired of his studies and his friends and moved on to new interests. But how shameful to leave Katherine nearly alone in the countryside of rural Florida.
He glanced toward the groves. The limbs hung so heavy with tiny oranges they reminded him of Chinese lanterns. Even though he’d never been involved with agriculture, he was fascinated with the neatly rowed trees and new fruit. He understood why Katherine loved this place. Even if it was ungodly hot and humid, it was a blessing to be so far removed from the hustle and bustle of New York. At least for a time.
“What kept you occupied while Charles was gone—on business?” Andrew suspected something besides business had lured Charles away from Buena Vista and his wife.
Katherine winced at the way he said on business, and Andrew regretted not taking more care with his tone.
“At first I decorated the house and retrimmed my hats. Then I visited neighbors, though we only have a few. I ordered books from New York. I read several classics during that time. Eventually, out of sheer desperation, I developed an interest in growing and selling our citrus fruit. Learning about the business from my manager, Mr. Herne, gave me a real sense of accomplishment. And it helped to prepare me for taking over after Charles’s death.” She hesitated and looked away before she continued in a softer voice. “I was so busy my loneliness faded away. Or maybe I grew too numb to care.”
Andrew grimaced a
t the pain she’d endured. Katherine looked so vulnerable with her sad eyes and quivering lower lip. He wanted to pull her close and erase all the sorrow that came from being married to Charles. But he knew better than to act on his impulse. Katherine had only let down her guard for a moment.
“You must have been unhappy. Why didn’t you go home to your family?” he asked gently.
She looked away. “Because I couldn’t bear Mama gloating about how headstrong I was to marry Charles. She’d never let me forget it. And worst of all, she’d take charge of me as if I were a child again. I’d rather stay here than have that. At least I have some freedom in Florida.” She met his gaze. “This is why it’s so difficult to accept Papa’s proposal.”
He’d never realized how deeply she resented her mother’s intrusion into her life. “I understand, but you have all the headaches of running a company. Surely that must weigh heavily on you.”
“Sometimes. All right, all the time.” She laughed without mirth. “Right now I’m sorely tempted to forget all about orange and grapefruit groves and go straight home with you and Papa, regardless of what I face with Mama. I’m tired, so tired . . .”
His heart thudding, Andrew tried to keep his voice calm. “Then why don’t you?” He shouldn’t care so much, but God help him, he did.
“Andrew, I failed at my marriage. If I also fall short in business, then I’ll be a complete failure at everything I’ve ever tried to do. I’m not willing to accept defeat. Somehow, with the Lord’s guidance, I’ll find a solution.” She sighed. “But right now, I can’t imagine what it would be.”
“Perhaps the Lord’s solution is for you to follow your father’s advice. A month isn’t too long to be away from your business. Even an important railroad man like your father takes part of the summer off.”
A Path Toward Love Page 4
